


Mack and the Perils of Alien Flora

by callay



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Sex Pollen, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:31:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3231185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callay/pseuds/callay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mack gets infected by sex pollen. Fitz wants to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mack and the Perils of Alien Flora

**Author's Note:**

> Did I mention sex pollen? That's both a warning, for associated consent issues, and an explanation!
> 
> Thanks to [thisiswherethefishlives](http://www.thisiswherethefishlives.tumblr.com) for her usual sage advice; everyone should definitely read her [long, thoughtful, angsty but ultimately sweet sex pollen fic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2630249/chapters/5868866)!

Fitz tilts his chin up, sets his mouth, and starts to strip.

“Fitz, don’t,” croaks Mack – even though every single inch of him wants Fitz to keep undressing. Even though he’s shaking with how much he wants Fitz, heart pounding against his ribs, need sparking hot and insistent under his skin.

Fitz struggles for a moment over the buttons on his shirt, but he doesn’t look down, just keeps his eyes on Mack, almost challenging. There’s a glimmer of uncertainty in his eyes, but it doesn’t affect his determined, jerky movements.

Mack swallows, hard, as Fitz shrugs off his shirt and then pulls his t-shirt over his head. The sight of Fitz’s bare chest feels like a blow, shakes loose a little gasp from Mack before he can grit his teeth and stop it.

Fitz seems to take that as a triumph, determined and proud with his pink mouth set and his slight shoulders drawn up. But there’s still a blush blooming on his cheeks. The flush reaches all the way to his neck, his chest, and Mack follows it with his eyes. He imagines following it with his hands, his mouth – all the way down Fitz’s narrow chest, his soft flat stomach, to the just-visible line of hair leading down under his waistband. _Wants_ to follow it, more than anything.

But he can’t.

Under the bright overhead light in Mack’s room, Fitz looks skinny and pale and utterly _vulnerable_. And Mack loves him. He loves him so much that he can feel it like a vice squeezing his heart, fighting the wild lust threatening to shake him apart entirely – and he is absolutely not letting Fitz get hurt because of some plant, alien or not.

He drags his eyes away from Fitz. “You don’t have to do this,” he says, as firmly as he can when his mouth is dry and his heart is pounding distractingly in his ears.

“I want to,” says Fitz stubbornly. When Mack just shakes his head, he pushes on, a little breathlessly, “I mean – I really _want_ you, and Hunter said you like me, so – but, but that doesn’t matter, you could _die_ , Mack –“

Which is true, thinks Mack with the small remaining part of his brain that isn’t occupied with the need pulsing through him – his blood pressure and heart rate have been skyrocketing since the incident with the plant, with no indication of stopping until his heart gives out entirely.

“Simmons,” he tries. “She said the cure –“

“She said it might take a few hours!” says Fitz. “This could be your only hope!”

He’s so insistent, Mack wants nothing more than to give in – hell, of course he wants nothing more than to give in, his whole body is screaming for it, practically vibrating with the desire to get up and cross the room and grab Fitz and kiss him –

But he can’t.

He’s not going to hurt Fitz, not going to make Fitz do something he doesn’t want to, sex pollen or no.

“Also, I’m not wearing any underwear,” says Fitz, all in a rush.

“What?” croaks Mack.

“I came here straight from my room, so I thought – what’s the point –“ Fitz lets out a shaky laugh.

Mack can’t help but look up then, at Fitz with his hands awkwardly posed to unbutton his pants. A rush of desire shivers down Mack’s spine, curls into the already overwhelming ball of need in his stomach.

“You’re killing me, Turbo,” he mutters.

Fitz looks a little triumphant at that, color high on his cheeks, and he keeps his eyes pinned to Mack as he starts opening his fly. Mack can’t seem to do anything but watch, heart beating frantically in his throat, as Fitz jerks down his zipper and slides his pants off his hips.

Fitz’s cock springs up against his stomach, hard and flushed pink and absolutely perfect.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Mack hears himself say, somewhere under the roar of his pulse in his ears.

Fitz fidgets just a little, stepping out of his pants, but he stands up straight and his eyes are defiant.

“Fuck, Fitz,” says Mack again, need washing over him in waves. He wants Fitz, wants to touch him everywhere, trace the lines of his body, his delicate wrists and his cute ears and the curve of his collarbone, and oh, his cock.

Mack realizes he’s shaking, or maybe that’s his heart pounding hard enough to rattle his ribs.

But –

He loves Fitz, and he can’t see him hurt, he can’t let go of control, he _can’t_. He grips the chair under him as hard as he can, holds himself in place.

Fitz is walking towards him now, crossing the room to Mack’s desk. The gravitational force of his body on Mack’s seems to get stronger as he gets closer, and it’s all Mack can do not to reach out and touch him. Just to touch him, his face – just to kiss him, his mouth, his cock –

But he can’t.

“Fitz, please,” he says, voice coming out low and hoarse.

“Don’t you want to?” asks Fitz breathlessly.

“Yes, Turbo, that’s the problem,” says Mack, squeezing his eyes closed so he won’t look at Fitz, in front of him now, all pink cheeks and earnest eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you, okay?”

“You won’t hurt me,” says Fitz stubbornly. He steps forward, between Mack’s knees, and Mack doesn’t know if he can keep control if they touch so he widens his legs to avoid touching Fitz, but then Fitz just steps in closer between his thighs. Not quite touching him, but Mack can feel his proximity like a physical force, a magnetic pull.

Mack’s eyes open. Fitz is looking down at him, naked, back straight, mouth set, eyes defying Mack not to want him.

Desire crashes through Mack like a tidal wave, stronger than ever, shaking his whole being until all he can think of is Fitz, and Fitz’s body, and what he’ll do to it.

“ _Fitz_ ,” he says, a last helpless groan.

“I – I want you, Mack, so much,” says Fitz, talking quickly. “And I know you wanted me, I mean – before this. So just –“

He leans down and grabs Mack’s arms. Mack, surprised, lets him, and Fitz wraps Mack’s arms around his back and leans into him, pressing their bodies together.

Mack gasps, arms tightening instinctively around Fitz, pulling him close. He feels Fitz everywhere against him, Fitz’s chest warm against his, Fitz’s stomach jumping in time with his quick breaths, Fitz’s cock pressed to Mack’s stomach. It’s overwhelming, so much Fitz against his Fitz-starved body, and for a moment he’s frozen, staring wild-eyed at Fitz’s face.

“It’s okay,” Fitz tells him quietly, and he takes Mack’s face in his hands and kisses him.

The pressure of Fitz’s lips sends a shudder through Mack’s whole body, and just like that, the last of his control is gone.

He grabs Fitz’s head with one hand, pushing his fingers into Fitz’s hair, and kisses him hard. Fitz’s mouth opens against his and his tongue meets Mack’s, wet and sweet and yielding as Mack pushes hungrily into his mouth. In the past, Mack has imagined they’d have some stupid cute first kiss – but now he doesn’t want anything but this, hard and messy.

His body is singing with it, the taste of Fitz, the feeling of Fitz pressed up against him. He can’t get enough. Fitz is kissing him back just as hard, sucking on Mack’s tongue, leaning in between Mack’s legs, hands sliding over Mack’s head, his neck, his shoulders.

Fitz tilts his head to gasp in a breath and Mack’s teeth catch on his soft lower lip. Fitz lets out a squeak and pulls away.

Mack’s eyes follow Fitz’s lips, pink and swollen. He’s dizzy with lust, body thrumming with the need to touch Fitz, and he can’t help leaning in nuzzle against Fitz’s neck. “I’m sorry –“

“No!” says Fitz, hands curling warm and reassuring around Mack’s head. “I was just surprised – but it was good, Mack, I like it, okay?”

Mack kisses up the column of Fitz’s neck, heart beating frantically against his ribs, head spinning feverishly. He wants to believe Fitz so much his body aches with it. 

But he’d rather suffer this desperate need a hundred times over than hurt Fitz.

“Please, Mack,” says Fitz, voice shaking as Mack kisses under his jaw. “I want – want you to – to do whatever you want to me.” 

Mack pulls back with a shudder. The things he wants to do to Fitz are – overwhelming, sweeping through every inch of him, making his stomach clench and his hand fist in Fitz’s hair. His hips rock forward involuntarily and his aching cock rubs against Fitz’s thigh, and desire tosses him like a ship in a storm. 

He makes some kind of low, hungry sound, and Fitz clutches at his head and leans down to press their mouths together, hard. Mack gives himself up to the perfect slide of their tongues, kisses and kisses Fitz, squeezing him close.

Mack has liked Fitz for what seems like forever and he’s thought about his body a lot, but it’s so different to actually feel it under his hands, small and angular and warm. He traces along Fitz’s back, over his thin shoulders, down his sides, which makes Fitz squirm against him like he’s ticklish. His hands feel big compared to Fitz’s body, and it’s thrilling. Fitz keeps leaning into his touch, little moans getting lost in the kiss.

Mack traces the curve of Fitz’s hipbones with his thumbs, then slides his hands back to curl around Fitz’s ass. Can’t help groaning into Fitz’s mouth at how perfect it is, small and round and fitting just right into his hands. He squeezes and Fitz gasps and rocks his hips against him.

All Mack can think about is how much he wants to fuck him.

The thought makes his blood burn hot with need. Too desperate to be subtle, he slides a few questing fingers between the warm press of Fitz’s cheeks. Fitz breaks away from the kiss to press his head to Mack’s shoulder, breathing hard, tilting his hips up, widening his legs to give Mack better access, and oh –

Between Fitz’s cheeks is already slick, and Mack’s finger slips easily inside him without even trying.

Fitz squeaks, trembling against Mack. “I – I thought it would be easier if I just – g-got ready –“ he gasps by way of explanation.

“Holy shit, Fitz,” groans Mack. The situation hits him like a physical blow, and he can’t breathe – Fitz planned this, planned for Mack to fuck him, and the thought – Fitz with a hand between his legs, flushed and determined –

Fingers inside himself and thinking about Mack fucking him –

Without even thinking Mack has his hands on Fitz’s hips, lifting him into the air as he surges to his feet. Fitz clings to him, wraps his legs around his waist. Their mouths find each other for a brief, bruising kiss as Mack crosses the room to the bed.

He throws Fitz down and Fitz lands on his back with a gasp, and Mack is on top of him.

For a single breath Mack looks down at Fitz, who’s spread out beneath him, naked, blushing all the way down to his chest. He looks small and vulnerable, lying there still, knees up, waiting for Mack. He’s biting his lip, pink and slick with spit, and staring up at Mack with his eyes wide and dark and eager.

Between the racing drumbeats of his heart Mack feels something lurch, because he loves Fitz so, so much – and then he’s busy shoving down his pants, because his veins are running hot with pure need and he needs to be inside Fitz _now_.

He knows he should go slow, that just because Fitz tried to get ready doesn’t mean Mack shouldn’t still be careful, but –

He can’t do anything but grab Fitz by the hips and yank him up and thrust into him.

Fitz is perfect, slick and deliciously tight, hot like the center of the earth. He cries out when Mack pushes in, a broken and needy sound, and clutches at Mack’s arms.

Mack can’t even pause to process the feeling of Fitz around him, can’t stop himself from falling right into a fast, hard rhythm. His hips snap automatically forward, thrusting deep into Fitz, and each time, Fitz gasps and tilts his hips up to meet him. 

It’s overwhelming – the heat of Fitz’s body and the sounds he keeps making, the way Fitz looks with his mouth half-open, head back against the bed, fingers digging into Mack’s arms – and Mack is almost totally gone, nothing left in him but pure brutal instinct. He holds on to Fitz’s hip and he fucks him harder and harder, groaning. Fitz just clings to him, breath coming out of him in one long, shaky moan.

Fitz’s cock is between them, smearing precome on Fitz’s stomach with each jostling thrust, and Mack can finally touch it. It’s hot in his hand, skin silky smooth, and Fitz gasps and shakes just from the curl of Mack’s hand around him. It’s easy for Mack to let his hand slide on Fitz’s cock at the same time he fucks him, and it makes Fitz tremble and push hard up against him, moaning Mack’s name.

“Mack, Mack, I – aah – I – ah, Mack, Mack –“

When Fitz comes, pulsing hot onto his stomach, Mack can _feel_ it, the frantic clench of him, and it’s too much.

Even after being keyed up for so long, orgasm is still a shock when it finally hits – huge and all-consuming, dragging him under wave after wave of pleasure, washing everything else away.

After a long time, he comes back to himself. It’s like waking up from a dream. The buzz of need under his skin, the fuzz in his mind, the race of his heart – all of that is gone. His mind is clear and his body is calm. His heart is beating slow and deep, full of relief and joy and love.

He pulls out as carefully as he can and collapses on the bed next to Fitz.

“Are you okay?” asks Fitz breathlessly.

“Yes,” says Mack, rolling over on his side to look down at Fitz. A surge of gratitude and love runs warm through his veins. “Better than okay! That was amazing. _You’re_ amazing, Fitz, thank you.”

Fitz smiles up at him, a little shyly, and Mack reaches out to trace Fitz’s cheek with his hand. “Are you okay?” he asks quietly.

“Fantastic, actually,” says Fitz, and Mack feels a rush of relief when Fitz grins his normal bright grin.

“Good,” says Mack, smiling back. He brushes his fingers up through the hair clinging to Fitz’s forehead. “You know, this isn’t really how I imagined this happening.”

“You being infected by alien plant spores isn’t exactly predictable,” Fitz points out.

“Yeah,” says Mack, laughing. “I guess I thought it would be more like… I’d take you aside and I’d say –“ He looks down into Fitz’s blue eyes and pitches his voice down a little. “’Fitz, I like you and I really want to be with you.’ And then you’d say –“

“’I like you, Mack,’” breathes Fitz, color flooding back into his cheeks.

“And then I’d just –“ Mack leans down and presses his lips gently to Fitz’s.

Fitz makes a soft little noise against him, leaning up into the kiss. His hands come up and curl around Mack’s head.

Mack’s heart feels full with love as he kisses Fitz, licks gently into the sweetness of Fitz’s mouth. The desperate urgency of the sex pollen is gone now, and it’s just him and Fitz, and it’s perfect.


End file.
